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<title>'cause even there in a room full of faces (all I saw was you and I) by heartbreakordeath</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23793490">'cause even there in a room full of faces (all I saw was you and I)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartbreakordeath/pseuds/heartbreakordeath'>heartbreakordeath</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>like the world is watching [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bastille (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:42:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23793490</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartbreakordeath/pseuds/heartbreakordeath</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>No we don't feel the need for colorful displays</i><br/><i>'Cause it's not the kind of game we play</i><br/><i>And why should we show the world how we feel</i><br/><i>When it's not about them anyway…</i><br/>-Gabrielle Aplin, “Magic”</p>
<p>or, the one where Dan keeps his promise to go to one of Charlie's gigs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlie Barnes/Dan Smith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>like the world is watching [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>'cause even there in a room full of faces (all I saw was you and I)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>like i said, i can’t stay away, can I? this takes place sometime in 2017, after the last one i posted the other day, and i did base it off of <a href="https://www.setlist.fm/setlist/charlie-barnes/2017/oporto-leeds-england-4bed1fae.html">a real set charlie did</a> that year bc i'm annoying like that sooo enjoy :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Are you sure about this?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>your idea</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Dan.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe it’s not a good time, y’know, maybe we should wait a bit and-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve had this gig booked for months! If you expect me to cancel it-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>saying </span>
  </em>
  <span>that!” Dan’s exasperated voice carries into the living room from the bathroom, where he’s busy doing...Charlie’s not sure, actually. He narrows his eyes when a crash resounds from the room, followed by an emphatic “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He snaps his guitar case shut and finds his boyfriend in front of the sink, holding a bottle of product that Charlie assumes was the source of the loud noise. He slips through the doorway until he’s behind Dan and wraps his arms around his middle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dan looks at his reflection in the mirror, fighting a grin as he watches Charlie stretch up onto his tiptoes so he can place his head on Dan’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Need a little help there?” He winces as a chin digs into his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not all of us are freakishly tall like you, Daniel.” Dan rolls his eyes at his reflection.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not all of us are freakishly short, either. You don’t see me complaining.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Freakishly </span>
  <em>
    <span>short</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Charlie sputters, squeezing Dan so tightly the other man coughs and lets out a nervous laugh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay- </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you’re not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>short,” Dan amends, and the arms relax around him. He shakes his head with a smile and cranes his head to look at Charlie. “Well, you are. But it’s cute.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie pokes him in the side, making the other man squirm. “You really are on thin ice today. And on the day of my gig, no less. I’m offended.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Speaking of which...we should probably head out now, then, yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie’s eyes widen. “Shit, yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is your fault!” Charlie accuses as they hurriedly pack up the rest of the equipment for the show. “You’re the one who’s always late, not me!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then, you’d better learn how to be a decent fucking procrastinator,” Dan argues, already standing by the door with a grin on his face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, shut </span>
  <em>
    <span>up</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you bastard. Come help me!”</span>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a small but respectable place, on a corner in a busier part of town. They go in the back to avoid the fans already waiting out front, lugging Charlie’s things with them, and thankfully only come across the people who don’t care that they’re just a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little </span>
  </em>
  <span>bit late.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To Dan’s relief, nobody gives him a second glance as they go about the venue. He goes to get the two of them drinks from the bar before soundcheck, and the bartender waves off his attempt to pay for it; but besides that, nobody cares. And Dan loves it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He makes himself comfortable in the greenroom- finally getting some weird looks, but only because of the atrocious way he sits in chairs- and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>watches</span>
  </em>
  <span>. For once, it’s not him who’s getting ready, and it gives him all the time in the world to watch his boyfriend run around backstage.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When the doors open and people start trailing into the room, excited voices carrying backstage, he stands. Charlie comes rushing over, face flushed and excited, gives him a quick kiss, and says, “Wish me luck!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>On instinct, Dan reaches out and catches him by the elbow before he can run off again. He pulls his boyfriend back, grips him gently by the face, and gives him a proper kiss (okay, maybe a few) before releasing him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“For luck,” he says cheekily to Charlie’s dazed expression.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” Charlie breathes, and then he’s gone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you love me,” Dan says to himself as he heads for the back door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He makes it all the way outside, back around to the front entrance, and up to the bar without a single person stopping him. It’s the beauty of small venues, and in the darkened room he orders himself another drink and sits at the bar, watching with a smile as the first chords of “Sing to God” fill the room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hums along, even to the stuff that’s not officially out yet, and he supposes that’s what catches the attention of the person next to him. After “Maria” ends and Charlie stops to tune and talk to the audience, she turns around with her drink and smiles at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello,” she says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,” Dan replies automatically, a bit caught off guard. “Enjoying the show?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The young woman nods enthusiastically. “Oh, yes. My friend dragged me here, he’s somewhere up in front-” she gestures vaguely to the stage, “-but I don’t like crowds very much, myself.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Me either, actually,” he replies, as she takes another sip out of her glass. “Sort of ironic, really.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She looks up and squints at him for a moment, then her eyes widen with recognition and she’s choking on her drink, and he’s putting a hand on her back and praying she doesn’t spit whatever she was drinking all over his shirt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She pulls back after a moment, blushing, and puts her glass down on the bartop gingerly. Dan glances around, but besides the bored-looking bartender, nobody else seems to have caught onto him. The woman wipes her mouth delicately with a bar napkin, trying not to lose too much of her lipstick, and apologizes profusely.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay, really, it’s quite alright,” he says in a hushed voice, trying to pay attention as Charlie starts to play “Bruising” on stage. Eventually she gets the message and clears her throat, turning to watch the singer as well, and they sit in comfortable silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He really does love Charlie’s voice- has since the day he first heard it in the audition- and he lets himself sit back and enjoy the way it floats through the room and into his head. He watches with what must be a stupidly lovestruck expression on his face, and although he knows the woman is probably sneaking looks at him, he really can’t bring himself to care.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie finishes up with “More Stately Mansions,” as usual, and though Dan’s seen crowds of tens of thousands of people sing along to his own songs for years, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is one of the nights that sticks in his memory for years to come. It’s different watching from a different perspective, seeing the cluster of people swaying and singing along to the songs they know. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s different because it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Charlie </span>
  </em>
  <span>up there, singing along with fans who know and love </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> and his music (though not as much as Dan does, of course) and playing his guitar like it’s the most important thing in the world.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dan blinks once, twice, and the spell is broken. Charlie’s saying his goodbyes to the audience yelling for an encore, and then Dan’s leaving his place at the bar and slipping past all of them to get back to his boyfriend. There’s a couple more hushed whispers as he passes, now that the lights are up, but nobody tries anything stupid. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He finds him backstage, where Charlie’s already in the process of putting his guitar back in its case.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” he says, placing a hand on his boyfriend’s back. Charlie looks up and drops the case closed with a tired but bright smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You were fucking amazing out there tonight, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re required to say that,” Charlie argues with a grin, “but I appreciate it anyways.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, fine,” Dan rolls his eyes. “You were shit.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why, thank you! You’re always my biggest supporter, babe.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dan slaps him on the arm lightly. “Whatever. Ready to get the fuck out of here?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie beams at him with all the post-show adrenaline he’s got, and somehow, Dan thinks he’s fallen even fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> in love with this dork tonight. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hell yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
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